


Off-Limits

by superdanganisland



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Awkward Boners, F/M, Masturbation, one-sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:28:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6424057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superdanganisland/pseuds/superdanganisland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night on the island, Kuzuryuu wanders off into a dark corner of his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off-Limits

**Author's Note:**

> Got the kuzupeko bug. oops
> 
> (also forgot this was sitting in my google drive for like 2 months lmaoo)

It was just an itch.

Yeah, that’s it. There were no other sorts of suspicious activities going on here. Just him, alone, in a dark room, with a blanket strategically shaped like a tent over his knees.

Well, maybe it was a really long, drawn-out itch. Er, he was just _adjusting,_ okay? C’mon.

There was a lot of things that Kuzuryuu tried to tell himself to justify the heinous act of a perfectly normal teenage behavior. Unfortunately, not even the most sheltered of individuals would believe his excuses, because everyone knows that there’s no good reason to have a blanket pulled up to your eyes on a hot summer night… that is, unless you were a young gentleman trying to be modest when there was a camera pointed at your bed from a dark corner of the room.

The truth is, the poor boy couldn’t sleep, and once his hand casually drifted below his waistline there was no going back. Kuzuryuu was 100% jackin’ it.

It wasn’t like it was something he did very often – in fact, he could probably count the times on his fingers – but seeing as he was both stressed out and unable to sleep, this was just the thing that could provide a temporary solution to both of those problems. The plan was to finish quickly and go straight to bed, and there was to be no profound effort or investment put into this activity at all.

None.

That was great in theory and all, until it came down to the execution. As Kuzuryuu filtered through the list of things that totally got his rocks off (it wasn’t very long – he wasn’t that creative), his body stubbornly refused to react to what little his mind came up with. It wasn’t like he wasn’t trying, as he _was_ , in the physical sense, but there was more to it than simply going through the motions, and instead, he was only adding to his mounting frustration.

Fuck, this was a mistake.

He paused to catch his breath. To overcome his mental block, he’d have to do better: he’d have to come up with some specific scene in his head and just stick with it. Obviously, there had to be some sexy heroine from one of his favorite gangster movies that he could focus on, right? He couldn’t possibly be that incompetent at this. As much as he tried to deny it, he was still a hormone-addled teenager, and if reaching down into his most shameful fantasies meant getting it over with faster, then fuck it. He’d sink to that level tonight.

And so, from deep within the Kuzuryuu archives, he attempted to pull up an image of the toughest, hottest movie star he could think of. First, it was the uniform, with super-tight leggings (very important)...  then, it was the glasses, with those beautiful, long lashes that framed her striking gaze (maybe he just _liked_ the glasses look, okay?) ...Oh, and she had to be armed to the teeth, too.

But that _body_ …

This wasn’t just any body – she was a total bombshell; a certified, combat-trained female, one who could kick his ass any day of the week and he’d probably thank her for it. Her hand delicately slid up the shaft of her weapon, gripping the handle to face some unidentified foe, and the way her entire body shifted with that movement, flexible and acrobatic, toned muscle beneath healthy, rounded curves…

...and when he pictured himself peering down her backside from beneath those perfect hips, the logical part of him briefly shut down, and he ignored the quiet shouts from the back of his mind telling him to stop.

As the thumping in his chest accelerated, so did his wrist, sinking into a state of mind he hadn’t been fully absorbed in for a long time. Solely focused on his end goal, he ignored the sweltering heat that was beginning to build beneath his blankets – it’d be over before he knew it.

But then, something snapped. All it took was one errant thought, and the immersion was lost – his conscience had finally managed to get his attention.

“ _Hey,_ _you’re masturbating to Peko. You can’t masturbate to Peko, you sick fuck.”_

Oh god, he was.

His chest tightened. Kuzuryuu abruptly forced his hand away from himself and jerked his body onto its side, letting his arm fall against the mattress. He hadn’t meant to wander off into _that_ fucked-up corner of his mind.

Yikes.

The heat under his blankets had all at once become suffocating and unbearable. Without hesitating, he threw the sheets off himself, and if it hadn’t been so humid in the room already, he was sure he would have steamed. But in the midst of his heavy panting, he knew his conscience was right: there was no way he’d be able to condone this.

He was disgusted with himself every time the thought came crawling back. It’d been something that’d struck him in the past, but never with _his dick in his hand_ , and he’d always fight it off before his mind took things too far. He thought he’d buried it by now.

It’s not that he didn’t _like_ her, but Peko was… well, she _wasn’t_ family, at least not by blood, but she might as well have been. They’d known each other since childhood. He wasn’t _allowed_ to think of her that way.

Peko was off-limits.

However, despite being confident in the matter, the rest of his body refused to cooperate. He couldn’t just quit in the middle of getting himself off and think it was just going to end that easily. And the more he stalled, the more his body told him he HAD to finish, or he was seriously going to go insane. Like, right now.

He’d just… he’d just have to think about someone else. It wasn’t that hard.

With a sense of mild regret, his hand returned to the weakening bulge in his pants. It was back to square one. Now that he was actively trying to avoid the same path he’d just wandered off on, he began to stroke himself with all the energy of someone who’d been hit with a tranquilizer dart.

It wasn't working. He again found himself stuck in that odd form of sexually frustrated limbo: his mind wasn’t into it, but his body still was, and to say the least, it was a form of mild torture. As he attempted to work himself back into a state of arousal, other unwelcome thoughts continued to creep into his mind.

_I wonder if I’m the only bastard here who’s doing this right now… fuck, I don’t wanna think about it..._

He continued to lazily stroke himself, trying to force the decidedly not-hot visual of his male classmates 100% jackin’ it out of his mind. However, every time he pushed one thought out, another would take its place.

_Apparently girls do it just as much as boys… do any of the girls here do it too? Does..._

He felt a spike in his heart rate.

_...Does Peko?_

No, not her. Anyone but her. God dammit.

_What if she’s doing it right now?_

A sudden flood of erotic imagery permeated every inch of his mind. Before it could go any further, he forced a sharp breath through his nose, digging his nails into his thighs to punish himself for the thought.

 _“...Get a grip, you disgusting bastard,_ ” he muttered beneath the sheets, flipping onto his back again to regain his composure. Though the room was otherwise silent, the sound of the ticking clock only added to his torture, serving as a reminder that if he didn’t just get this over with soon, he’d be stuck here doing this all night.

He just had to imagine someone else. Anyone else. Sonia, Owari, one of them… he didn’t care if it was his own damn classmate, it just couldn’t be Peko.

But it _was_ Peko.

And she was lying on her back. And her cheeks were on fire. And her hand was slipping into her skirt.

It was the hottest thing he’d ever imagined.

His last objections were tossed aside. _This_ was the only thing he wanted. Not just because she was some beautiful girl he knew... but because it was _Peko_ , and she was enjoying herself, _pleasuring_ herself… it was driving him absolutely wild.

Though he couldn’t see her hand beneath her skirt, his mind filled in the blanks. She rarely allowed others to catch her in a state of vulnerability, but here, her hardened expression had become soft; her breathing, steady and focused – the movement looked as natural to her as it always did in kendo practice. But unlike in kendo practice, her expression wasn’t blank or stoic – there was a different bloodthirstiness to her eyes. They were locked onto his. And as she drew her hand away from her skirt… she asked for him.

Not by his title, but by his name. Fuyuhiko.

…

Okay. _Okay_. Maybe he could do it, just this once.

The scene changed – he pictured her grinding her hips onto… well, his mind didn’t really make it clear, but it didn’t matter. He was there. He was behind her, reaching around her waist, and she was guiding his hands exactly where she wanted them, over her breasts, and into her skirt… he was sure the friction between them would set him on fire. Her scent filled his nose as he buried his face into her neck, so familiar, so _Peko,_ and yet unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He wanted nothing but to lean forward and kiss her, to feel her skin under his tongue, but the only thing that mattered right now was that Peko was doing this purely for her own pleasure. She was doing this because she wanted it. And she was close.

And _he_ was close. God, was he close.

It didn’t take much else. Their arms were wrapped around one another, their chests pressed together, and with one last forceful thrust, he could feel her body tense – she was gasping into his neck – and feeling her reaction, his senses were electrified, and the surge of release was so strong he didn’t have time to stifle his own involuntary groan.

And just like that, it was over. The euphoria was fleeting, because all at once, the crushing sense of reality sent him crashing back down to earth, and the wave of guilt that followed was overwhelming.

Fuck.

 

* * *

 The next morning, Kuzuryuu was mysteriously absent from the hotel restaurant. Not because he was trying to avoid anyone this time – he just couldn’t bear the shame.

 

**Author's Note:**

> 


End file.
